


Aware Of His Shortcomings

by Kastaka



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-02
Updated: 2016-01-02
Packaged: 2018-05-11 03:53:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5613043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kastaka/pseuds/Kastaka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The book was still on his shelf.</p><p>It was most definitely his shelf. None of them had been able to agree on a filing system.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Aware Of His Shortcomings

**Author's Note:**

> From approximately the same universe as http://www.fictionalley.org/authors/kastaka/AGF01a.html and http://www.fictionalley.org/authors/kastaka/AITD01a.html

The book was still on his shelf.

It was most definitely his shelf. None of them had been able to agree on a filing system. Hermione had given up keeping her books in the same room as the others entirely; some of the spells that kept the darker volumes in line interacted poorly with modern classification systems and printing techniques.

Sometimes, when she was sure they were both asleep, she would tiptoe down the back stairs - the sweeping main staircase made far too many strategic creaking noises - and flick through the pages, and remember.

It was different, now, of course.

Some of the letters had become detached - computerized fonts leeching away in the presence of so much magic - and replaced by hand to preserve the meaning. Some of the pictures had begun, very slightly, to animate themselves.

Even on the front cover, the young boy with the test tube looked out of the page with frightened eyes - the only part of him that was mobile, yet.

She returned it to the shelf with the end of the telekinesis spell - obviously she wasn't daft enough to touch it directly - and carefully re-scattered the dust on top of it. She was sure he would understand, possibly even find it endearing, but she didn't want him to notice.

She didn't want him to have to remember, even though she was sure that he did.

It had been part of a present from her parents. Every year they would give her a new set of textbooks - determined that her schooling in 'Muggle' science should not be deficient, however incompatible it was with her new magical talents.

Of course, she would dutifully devour them herself.

But over the years she had been looking for someone to share them with. Harry was far too preoccupied with magical affairs - and was only average at anything that didn't benefit from raw power, in any case. 

Ron was a darling and would surely attempt to look at them and pretend to be impressed in order to look good in front of her, but she didn't think he had a chance of actually understanding them; not having had a basic Muggle education to start with, he'd have been at a disadvantage even if he had the academic inclination.

That factor was one of the reasons she had waited so long here, too. The last thing she had wanted was to aggravate him, and she was rather concerned that if he found it difficult to understand because of his lack of background in the subject, that he would lash out at her for bringing it to him and making him aware of his shortcomings.

But after the Department of Mysteries, she was emboldened both by the adventure and by the part Snape had played in it, and so she had borrowed the invisibility cloak and made her way down to his office at a time she was sure he would be both in residence and alone.

Her persistent knocking eventually produced an exasperated sigh and a "Go away, what kind of time do you think it is?", and then an "If I have to come to the door to show you out, that's ten points from your house and detention for breaking curfew", and then finally the door began to open.

She stashed the cloak before he could see it, and brandished the book in front of her like a weapon.

"Do you really think I haven't read one of those before?" he sneered.

"Have you had someone who has studied the entire series to work with on the implications to potion-making?" Hermione countered.

She noticed he had not added, "Ten points from Gryffindor."

"Ugh," he continued, "come in and shut the door before somebody sees you out here."

She did so.

"Put the book away," he told her. "What is this really about? I can't imagine you came down here just to proselytize the wonders of science."

"Actually," she replied, "yes, I did."

He looked at her, aghast. "So this isn't some kind of... this is entirely your own... what were you _thinking_?"

"I was thinking," she said, trying to remain calm, "that if anyone was capable of integrating some of these techniques into potion-making, of even entertaining the idea that they might be useful..."

"...that it would be the traitor?" His eyes narrowed, dangerously. "Do you really think that..."

But something made him pause. A sound that only he could hear; a sound that he had become attuned to. Soft footsteps on stone steps.

He broke off his rant before it had begun, and looked wildly around the room for something - some hiding place.

"How did you get here?" he demanded. When she hesitated, he went on, "I do not have any time for you to play games. Do you have it? Do you have the cloak?"

"Yes," she admitted.

"Get in the corner," he demanded, pointing at the far left corner of the office. "Get under the cloak and take up as little space as you can, and pray that he does not sense you."

This time she did not hesitate. She had never seen him so afraid. 

She had assumed that his visitor would be Voldemort himself, but the door swung open to reveal Lucius Malfoy.

None of them liked to remember what happened then. In his many apologies, Lucius had mostly called his behavior 'childish'. Like he thought he was playing with a toy that was just human enough to scream.

When she was sure that he had gone, Hermione dropped the cloak, leaving it forgotten in the corner while she applied all of the magical first aid she could remember. It was clear that Snape was used to having to repair himself after such ordeals, but also clear that he was grateful for her presence - and that this surprised him more than it surprised her.

They said nothing but the words of spells until he had entirely recovered what shreds of dignity were left to him, and then he said, simply, "Thank you."

They had never dreamed that Lucius would be anything but their mortal enemy until after the battle.

Voldemort had fled in a panic after she had leapt from the cloak and murdered his snake; she had not expected to survive the occasion, but between no chance of saving Snape's life and the slightest of chances, she had to choose the latter. 

The entirely mundane anti-venom that they had been working on ever since he had procured a sample from Nagini had done the job, eventually, but both of them were incapacitated through the rest of the fighting.

When he finally regained consciousness in St Mungos, still too weak to offer any resistance, Lucius was at Snape's bedside.

At first he could not believe it.

This was clearly some other trick - some cruel long game to replace the last one, which had lost its ability to hold power over him with Voldemort's defeat.

But Narcissa had died at Voldemort's hands when he cast the curse on Harry's 'body' and the 'corpse' had screamed; and Lucius knew that Snape had once sworn to protect his son.

And his apology was genuine, and heartfelt.


End file.
